


Magic and Fae and all that is Strange

by YouDontNameWhatYouThrowBack



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Budding Love, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouDontNameWhatYouThrowBack/pseuds/YouDontNameWhatYouThrowBack
Summary: In a world of magic and mystery, of dragons and fae and all that's bizarre, a young and naive Antonio is swept up into the magical doings of a whimsical wizard boy named Arthur. Together they delve deeper into the insanities of magic and exploit their curious natures to make the most out of what they find in the world around them.
Relationships: England/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. The new and bewitching

Lavendonia was truly a land of magic, of sorceries and witchcraft, the like of which Antonio was very unfamiliar with. His maids had read him tall tales of far off places, of fairy pools where fey children danced and daring knights slayed the most formidable of the ancient Arconian dragons, those of the like that wandered the world in ancient times.  
From the carriage window Antonio could see the tall spires of buildings and the slanted quirky rooves of Amoe’s city scape. Lively crowds had gathered in the centre of the city to celebrate the beginning of the long harvest period, a spectacle of colours and clothing, rich aromatic scents of street foods and every face pulled with a bright smile. As happy as Antonio was to experience the world outside his home the parade had drawn the carriage to a halt. A rather distressed looking boy had ducked his head into the carriage to announce that they had to wait for the parade to pass and while he was perfectly content to twiddle his thumbs and watch the flags so brightly displayed roll by, his governess wasn’t the least bit happy.  
“You mean to say we must sit here!? In this stifling carriage to wait for this “festivity” to pass” Antonio would bet that she had wanted to say something else, something alternative to ‘festivity’; had they been in the comfort of the Dahlian palace he was certain she would have said something else.  
But Lucia bit her tongue for what it was worth, tossed her plaited her fixed her collar and threw the length of her skirt, “fine, do as you must” she threw a glance to the window and timidly peered through only to grimace at a group of dancers.  
It was clear that Lucia was indeed unhappy being stuck where they were but for Antonio it was an exciting opportunity to learn something from what he could see from the carriage window.  
One of the books in the library back home had described Lavendonia in quite significant detail, it said how the streets were paved with brilliant stones and the houses all painted bright brilliant colours and lined with gold. It said how the windows all arched into rose shaped petals and that a constant sweet tang of flowers could be smelt throughout the streets. Only a few of these things could be said as true, the houses and buildings were all brilliantly coloured and the windows and designs were flower inspired, but from his seat Antonio saw no gemstones on the street and no gold on the houses, and there was no sweet smell to speak of. Rather the streets were laid with bricks and stones that looked uneven and there was no particular smell other than that of food, but what the book got right is that the city itself was rather colourful, which excited Antonio.  
As he was starring a congregation of half Elven women holding bouquets of traditional blue celebratory flowers danced past. Lucia scoffed, “pull the curtain back darling, we don’t want just anyone peering in” Lucia reached over pulling the curtain back from his grip pulling a pout from the prince.  
“Don’t worry my prince, this isn’t where you’ll be staying, not around these paupers and,” she paused “and these others” she gestured vaguely to the window, “from what I heard you’ll be staying in a castle outside the city with Lavendonia’s heir”  
Antonio took one last peek through the window watching the pleats of distinctly Elven skirts become indistinguishable amongst the crowd. “Yes I’ve already heard Lucia, Miss Beatrix made a big fuss over telling me everything” he smiled.  
Lucia scoffed “I don’t understand how anyone deems her competent enough to tell anything”  
“Lucia you’re not very kind today?” he nervously chuckled, not wanting to earn her anger today.  
“Nonsense child, I am never kind unless it involves you” she caressed his cheek with a soft grin.  
The carriage jolted and once more they were moving “what savages they could at least have warned us!”  
It took an hour to reach the centre of the city to where the palace was situated and a further ten minutes to even walk up the stairs to the palace entrance, Lavourian’s sure knew little of subtlety when it came to displaying their wealth through architecture. In fact, the whole city was so densely populated with buildings you would not have believed that only twenty years before a third of the city had been destroyed in the war. Yet despite the war having crippled both their countries, and despite them having been on the same side, Lavendonia still turned out to be richer and more prosperous mostly because of their main trade, magic.  
There was no other country as magically versed, sure some of the eastern countries tried but none could amount to the sheer density of magic that existed in Lavendonia.  
Even then thinking on it their library only contained a few books on magic, most of which only detailed the objective truths of magic and little on how to cast and work with magic. And even less on how to use items and ingredients to make spell circles or healing incantations, which again were the very basics of magic.  
Lavendonia had little else to trade with other that magic and things of fairy tales so it was lucky for them that such a supply was in a maddening abundance here. “Remember child, straight back, good posture and articulated words when you address the king” these were the words Lucia left him with as she was whisked away to some drawing room somewhere in the rooms below him, her heels leaving loud clicks bouncing around the walls as they walked the old wooden hallways.  
Antonio had been left in a library with arching latticed windows decorated with old atmospheric stained glass, grotesques and faces stared at him from the corners of the room as he searched to make himself comfortable. As he reached for the chair and soft ‘pinging’ sound echoed in the room and the chair softly jolted out on its own. Even as a novice in sorcery he recognised this to be an enchantment spell and probably not very strong magic. He found himself even at this tiny act of magic grinning like a madman, it was his first encounter with magic in the home of all that is magic and strange after all, what was not to get excited about. Sure, it was not an awe-inspiring show of lights and theatrics, maybe the whole room wasn’t levitating but it was certainly something he had never seen in his home in Dahlia.   
The door opened the moment his body relaxed into the seat, and the moment he saw who he thought or more correctly assumed to be the king enter he stood tall and to attention, his tunic catching on the seat and toppling it to the ground.  
“My apologies your highness I didn’t mean to knock the chair” he started, making the move to pick up the chair, but its legs wobbled and bent like knees and the wood moved in a way wood never should and suddenly before his eyes the chair had picked itself up and settled into its previous position.  
“There is nothing to worry about Prince Carriedo, please relax a little and we can begin to explain the way in which we have planned everything with your father” the king nodded, gesturing for Antonio to sit on the chair that just wriggled and moved like an animal.  
Hesitantly he planted himself where he was sat, noting thankfully it once more felt like wood, and addressed the King with his first burning question “If you don’t mind me asking, where is prince Arthur, I thought he might be here too” the corner of the kings mouth tilted in annoyance and suddenly Antonio found himself worrying that he had already said something he shouldn’t have.  
“Who knows where that boy has run off too, in the last year he’s become a real pain in the neck to keep an eye on, always disappearing and reappearing and breaking this and destroying that, he is truly the lord of clumsiness and bad manners” he leant on an elbow “as for his title, he is no prince, and he will not take kindly to being called one so I would recommend you don’t” Antonio took note nodding along as it was all he could do.  
“Also I should tell you I am not the king, I am the right hand of the king” Antonio’s face heated up in embarrassment as he found his mouth falling open in a half laugh half sob.  
“Oh- is that so”  
“The King is bedridden, and Lord Arthur,” he continued, uninterested in the boys babbling “is the foul mouthed nuisance son of the kings brother, and unfortunately as I said the king is ill and has no sons and the kings brother unfortunately passed, Arthur is set to inherit the throne. While the kings brother had four sons Lord Arthur is currently the first in line to the throne” yes he remembered reading about this, that Lavourian’s had a different way of anointing their kings. Rather than it falling to the first-born son like many places traditionally did, Lavourian’s took the more unorthodox approach of having the youngest son ascend ahead of the oldest. It was an old wives tale that the last shake of the bag, or the last son is the one that the God’s would shine the most favourably on and as such he would be the one most suited for taking over the family business, or in this case taking over a country. From his tone Antonio made a guess that in some way Arthur was unsuited for this position though, he’d heard stories of the kings nephew and how he was a bit of a loner and wanted nothing to do with royal life, but he’d never actually met the boy.  
“Since he turned 18 he has had greater expectations of him, and sure enough he is a powerful sorcerer but at every turn he has defied the kings rule and refuses to accept his role is to one day be a king. But all that low brow boy cares about is making a right monster of himself.” Antonio cringed, somehow this character assassination reminded him a lot of what his father used to say of his older brother João before he was sent away to be engaged with the daughter of a baroness they knew vaguely from when they were children. But he was 22 and she merely 14 and no matter how much he protested his father heard none of it and now he lives somewhere far away with a young wife and isolated from his family all because he didn’t obey every command of his father. He lost his right to ascend the throne, he would have been king one day, if he’d just kept his head down and done as he was told and not questioned anything. It made Antonio angry, part because he alone now had to take the brunt of their father’s anger but also because it left him feeling alone.  
“We hope with your pleasant company he will mellow out and see that there is yet hope that he will make a goodly king and one day a goodly husband, this is his last chance to prove himself otherwise King Alba is unsure what to do with such a troublesome boy” he shook his head lowly, clearly distressed over this Arthur kid. Antonio was already nervous, he didn’t normally like coming to conclusions before he met people but it sounded like this kid was a little crazy, the fact that Arthur was a mere year younger than Antonio struck him, as Arthur certainly seemed to have a decent set of problems that he needed to work through.  
“He sounds like an interesting boy, and very talented in sorceries and magic I’m sure that we can learn a lot from each other!”  
The right hand smiled, seemingly agreeing with Antonio’s optimism before breaking into another warning “yes he is good in the language of magic, our chief sorceress made a right demon of him, she claims he is the best she’s ever trained which brings some comfort” his eyes wandered over Antonio, lingering ever so slightly on his face before he scowled “but someone like you should beware his magic, its strong for a boy so young and naïve and he uses it rather selfishly, I would not be surprised if he used it on someone as revenge, do not let him bewitch you as he has others” well now Antonio was suitably frightened of this fairy child. He did not want to be made into a frog or a cat or something, he didn’t even know if magic could work in that way! He really didn’t want to find out in what ways Arthur had allegedly bewitched people before!  
Nervously and suddenly rather unsure of what he had gotten himself into Antonio laughed and assured both the hand and himself that everything was going to be alright and that he and Arthur would take their studies seriously.  
“For his sake I hope he does” it was a very ominous note to end on, and it left a lot of ambiguity and uncertainty on Antonio’s part as to what exactly was to be Arthur’s fate if he didn’t fix his ways. It didn’t help Arthur’s case that the kings guard searched high and low and couldn’t find him anywhere until a guard happened upon a tidily written note that detailed Arthur had already whisked himself and his things off to the countryside where he, Antonio and of course a plethora of servants and guards would be staying.  
Chaos ensued, no one could calm Michael, which Antonio learned was the name of the kings right hand, when he caught wind of the note and Antonio also struggled to calm Lucia was threw a fit over the disrespect she had received at the hand of the Lavourian servants who had served her a lemon tea instead of the green tea she had asked for.  
  
“The humanity” Antonio mocked her slumping in the carriage seat, a gloved hand covering his forehead “I can’t imagine you recovered and asked for a different tea, did you?”  
“Wicked boy,” she grinned slapping his knee “of course I did but I made a good drama out of it for what it was worth.”  
“You always do, you should try being kinder”  
“And that my prince is what you must rise against, your kindness is both virtue and weakness, learn to be kind in modesty and in a way to further yourself” it was kind of a bizarre concept, being kind but in a way that bettered one’s own position, it kind of defeated the point of being kind in the first place, or so Antonio thought.  
“Do you know much about this Arthur boy?” Lucia asked drawing the curtains open once they had escaped to the privacy of the countryside.  
“Not a great deal, only that we’re roughly the same age and that he’s a brilliant sorcerer” for his own sanity he withheld certain aspects of Arthur’s character that he’d come to learn just that day, he didn’t need Lucia worrying about Arthur corrupting him or whatever madness she might suggest, she had already gone made with suggestions of what kind of person Arthur could be. The one she became most heated over was the possibility of Arthur being Elven.  
“For our sakes I hope he’s not some heathenistic Elf, I surely would go mad having to look at him”  
“Oh, and what if he is? What then?” Antonio mildly hoped he would be an Elf if not to see Lucia blow some steam, but his deep-rooted distrust of Elves had him sweating at the thought. Historically speaking Dahlia had a long and complicated relationship with the lands and races that lived around it with one normally invading the other until all sides resented one another. The Elves particularly led long and arduous wars against the humans of Dahlia so Antonio had grown up around the sentiment of ‘us verses them’. But to be there in Amoe and see Elves and all manners of other races and beings living in a state of relative normality was different for the largely homogenous Dahlia. It was new and strange and intriguing even more so.  
Antonio wanted to say he felt differently, but it would be a lie, there was a small, indoctrinated part of him that truly believed some of the stories he heard. Lucia and Beatrix had told him stories of the wars when he was younger, about how the Elves lay waste to any village or town they came across on the border and the ones who did run they hunted down like rabbits. These stories instilled a deep fear in him, something he felt ingrained more deeply than his language, the worst story was of Lucia’s brother who had run off into the woods to play with the other village boys, they never did find him, only a soiled leather shoe on the bank of the river and warning runes scrawled onto a tree in Elvish. He had strayed too far into Elven woods and everyone believed he was taken by the native Wood Elves but who could ever be sure.  
Lucia looked at him with a look that was both sad and stern “I shall _never_ forgive their lowly kind.” That shut Antonio up, in that moment all he wanted to do was meet the fabled Arthur before he came to any conclusions.  
As they got deeper into the country and the houses and farms became fewer and farther between Antonio realised that he had heard stories of Arthur before from some of his friends. Francis for instance, a son of a nobleman back in Bohemia spoke of a wizard boy called Arthur who stole an ashtray and quote-on-quote his “heart” after a visit to his home. João also spoke of a blond boy named Arthur who he had gone hunting with and said how Arthur had struck a spark with the click of his fingers that set a fire roaring all night long with no need to tend the fire. Gilbert mentioned rather bitterly the name Arthur when mentioning how someone with magic had dyed his entire wardrobe a bizarre variation of the colour pink in revenge for pouring salt in his water, he later said he’d fix his misdeed and indeed set all the clothes back to normal only to grow them to a size where it would look silly for Gil to wear them. So, Arthur certainly had some mixed reviews it seemed.  
The castle that they arrived upon was quite charming, it was an archaic castle that had been somewhat renovated to suit the needs of the day. It had from what he could see a rather large greenhouse in which plants were growing out the windows and towards the sun. The red brick of the extensions looked stark against the black columns of the castle walls. There were pedantic rows of flowers and hedges surrounding the premises and Antonio could not help but wonder if their neatness was in part due to magical intervention. Even the trees seemed to be too perfectly grown with similar width trunks and slender branches that fanned out with little individuality.  
A chorus of maids were at the steps to greet them and before Antonio even had a chance to thank them Lucia was batting them away and shouting orders as though she had been running the house for years. Antonio felt a tinge of second-hand embarrassment as a poor young woman was violently reprimanded placing a bag down with a little too much force. The ginger girl held back her shock as Lucia gifted the luggage to another sorry soul and pushed her aside as though she were never there.  
Antonio knew better than to offer his help for fear of upsetting Lucia, so all he could do was share a sympathetic smile as he was marshalled off to find the inscrutable Arthur. Or so he thought, of course first and most important (or so Lucia said) was to see his room and settle in, ‘who cares where that Arthur is’ she had said, images of an Elven child still present in her mind.  
Antonio had become a bit of a celebrity around the house already, making a sizable group of admirers from the occupants of the house. The maids blushed and mused about how he was so young, and the men marked on how they had truly only heard good things about him!  
Well of course they had, that was the nature of how his father had controlled his image for the last nineteen years of his life, all anyone ever saw was this carefully crafted image of him, the portraits, the education, the fine company he was surrounded by was all to build his image as the future king of Dahlia. An image of a beautiful educated man, what a sad life. But it was his, and while it was not spectacular or interesting, it was at least organised, organisation was never one of his strong suits.  
“This room is one of the guest bedrooms your highness, it’s the largest and with the best view” the room was certainly spacious, maybe a bit too much spare space for Antonio’s liking. The room was beautifully decorated without being too overcluttered, somehow his luggage felt like half the rooms furnishings.  
The maid bristled, nervousness clear in her voice “Or, or if this is unsatisfactory I can show what other rooms are available” she pined.  
“No this is perfectly fine” he assured.  
“I can send one of the maids to unpack for you” Antonio starred indignantly at the girl “I’m able to unpack myself thank you” there was a moment of starring before the maid turned pale clapped her hand over her mouth and ran off, the little clicks of her heels cried of her fright.   
Antonio felt momentary embarrassment at having frightened the maid, someone who he would undoubtedly have to see every day but his frustration was not without reason, the conversation from the carriage weighed heavily on his mind and on top of that he hated being cuddled, being blanketed and shielded as though he were weak. He was nineteen, nearly twenty, soon he would meet his betrothed and would be set to marry, he’d even once beaten his brother in a wrestling match, but if Lucia was to catch him so much as running! If Lucia – if Lucia found out he had rejected the help from the servants he’d have hell to pay! Oh no, he had to swallow his pride and apologise and ask the maid for help to avoid the wrath of Lucia!  
He dropped the seal of the luggage he had just opened and made haste for the door, his jewellery jingling as he ran down the hall after the rather quick maid. But this house had a way of tricking him with its looping corridors and doors to nowhere (also known as the boiler room) and soon he had lost himself in the trickery of the house. Had he not gone down that staircase before? Had he not already opened that door twice? How had he ended up by the kitchen? The servants milling about in the kitchen paid him no heed, too busy prepping for dinner with a foreign head chef organising them in a language he did not know.  
He climbed a new staircase that lead to a landing of what he assumed to be the other set of guest bedrooms and was about to turn back when a loud crashing of glass and a string of profanities echoed the hall. It froze bold Antonio in place and wearily he peered over his shoulder to the end room of where the commotion came.  
Antonio did not recognise the voice which came next as it uttered lowly to itself from the closed door, and his anticipation rose as he realised it must be the missing Arthur! He wondered what he might see when he entered the room, what colour hair might he have, how deep or bright were his eyes, what expression would his new classmate wear, classmate, that seemed so boring, but it is that what they were to be. Maybe they would even become friends, it was certainly no harm to make friends with those existing in high places. As he reached the door, he noticed a soft glow of colours beneath the door and a voice chastising itself repeatedly. There was a soft scent of lavender and the hum of Lavendonian folk music from behind the oak door. Briefly Antonio’s manners caught up to him, maybe it was not a good idea to burst in on someone especially seeing as he did not know who was in there! Even if it was Arthur, he was sure he would not take kindly to being rudely dropped in on. He was about to mind his own business when another crash and series of slurs came loudly from behind the door. Antonio’s imagination was too active and his desire to meet Arthur too real, he had to see what was behind the door now and with no more hesitation he burst into the mystery room blazing.  
  



	2. Stood before a changing tide

What a scene Antonio had happened upon in the study. There was a boy spread over a dark oak workbench, feet perched on open draws to give himself leverage, their contents lay strewn across the floor, rummaging in what he presumed to be draws while books from a collapsed shelf rearranged themselves alphabetically, hovering as the shelf rebuilt itself splinter by splinter. As Antonio followed the bookcase up with his gaze, he noticed the bookshelves spread over the ceiling in an arch and connected to the bookshelves on the other side of the wall, and yet the books did not fall!   
A marvellous arched window allowed the evening sun to stream into the room only interrupted by the billowing of the curtains in the afternoon wind. The window was decorated with flowers and folk paintings along the frame and a stuffed rabbit sat solitary in a corner watching wistfully as the world passed by outside the window. The lavender smell was coming from the dried out lavender hanging from the top of the window and the top of the doorway, from the bundles of flowers hung charms and chimes that rung pleasantly in the breeze.  
“There,” the boy exclaimed pushing himself from the table by his elbows, hands firmly clasped together as to stop whatever he was holding from escaping.  
When the boy finally noticed the intruder he gasped and took a defensive step back, his green eyes stern and hands twitching from whatever he was restraining.   
“And who are you supposed to be?” he asked, accent thick and his blond hair shining in the sun.   
“I’m sorry for intruding it sounded like you may need help” Antonio observed his surroundings again, broken glass and upturned chairs aside the blond stranger seemed to have things under control.   
“I don’t, and you didn’t answer my question did you”   
He laughed and the obvious rudeness “sorry, my names Antonio, I presume you’re Arthur?” even though this was his second time guessing strangers something told him that this time he must he was right if the magic was anything to go by.   
At this he loosened his shoulders, but his scowl remained “yes, I’m Arthur, I wasn’t aware you were arriving today, I guess I lost track of time” a panicked look came over his face and he started to frantically look around him before babbling “ah, a jar, or something, quickly”  
Antonio’s hair stood on end before he began pulling open cabinet draws looking for a jar, he quickly found one and unscrewed the lid before presenting it to Arthur. In a swift motion Arthur slammed whatever it was into the jar and screwed the lid shut before running a finger down the seam of the glass causing a soft blue glow to envelop the jar.   
“Little fucker,” he cussed looking at his palm, tiny puncture marks appeared oozing a drop of blood, “can’t believe you bit me” he glared in the jar. Antonio too allowed his curiosity to take over and starred into the jar.  
“What is it?” he asked trying to peer closer. Two long legs hit against the glass its eyes peering at him and he had to fight against his disappointment as he realised he was looking at a spider.  
“A book spider, I was reading and it fell from one of the books above, things fast but not fast enough!” he sneered at the spider flicking the glass.  
“A book spider?”   
“Yeah they live in the spines of books, though don’t be tricked by them, these creatures are magical deviants and thrive of the magic produced by the books, and they pack a bite” he placed the jar in the window sill, the spider in the midst of a fit of panic dashing up and down the jars length.   
“I catch quite a few of them this time of year, if you don’t keep your eyes peeled for them though they’ll multiply quickly and destroy your books, had an infestation in the royal archives a few years before I was born - decimated a considerable portion of our conjuration collection” Arthur rubbed his wounded hand against his trousers before stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets.   
For a member of the aristocracy Arthur was certainly dressed in plain clothing. His trousers were a soft beige but were fitted nicely and he wore a black belt, his shirt was a deep blue and deathly ordinary with some simple cross stitch designs decorating the collar, all in all it did not make for a very imaginative look. From their closed distance he also noticed Arthur’s soft green eyes marked with golden flecks and soft blond lashes, they were the types of eyes that, had Antonio been born a poet, he was certain he would fawn over and write about. But as it stood Antonio was not very good with the intricacies of word play and so stuck to his appreciation of fine literature. The most important thing though that Antonio marked about Arthur with a slight dizzying relief was the lack of pointed ears.   
With a toss of his hair and delightfully rounded ears Arthur looked to Antonio “Tea?”   
  
Antonio was not sure what to expect when he met Arthur but this stubborn, rude and some-what rowdy young man was not it. He also wasn’t too sure what to expect of the magic, sure it was fantastical but he also had expected everything to be running on some sort of constant magic energy, maybe this was because of all the stories he was told as a child. He wanted the lights to be magic, he wanted the food to be magic and for the very ground he walked on the be magic, and he had supposed that the minute Arthur saw him he would start shooting off some magic (he had been told by Lucia that magic users couldn’t help but brag about how they used magic) to show how powerful he was. But Arthur subverted his expectations so far, for example Arthur had said he wanted to change and he naively thought that Arthur could just magic up some new clothes which earned a very loud sneer.  
“Sure I could if I wanted to, but I don’t, I got two arms and am blessed to be able to pull a jumper over my head” he laughed which made Antonio’s face blow up bright red.   
Okay maybe Antonio was not well versed in the complexities of magic but he was educated in other areas, he could speak four languages by the time he was five and could sail better than anyone he’d ever met, sure he was book smart but he did not view that as much of an achievement, just dedication. Now if they were going to talk sword play well, let us just say if Arthur ever truly annoyed Antonio he would just run him through with a sword.   
The pair had settled in the garden after Arthur became briefly acquainted with Lucia (who was very happy about his ordinary and human appearance) and were chatting over some tea. It was easy enough to tell that Arthur was not very good with small talk, in fact a lot of his answers were curt and could be read as a tad standoffish at times, maybe it was a problem with the fact he just did not know Antonio very well. Whatever the reason it did not make him feel very welcomed, at least not at that moment, but Antonio did his very best to carry the conversation.   
“So what’s Dahlia like?” it was the first question Arthur had asked him since they sat down.  
Antonio smiled fondly “it’s a beautiful place, granted we’re not very big and our biggest exports are agriculture and natural resources, but there’s a lot of natural beauty, have you never been?”   
Arthur’s head rolled back “no, I’ve never been outside of Lavendonia, my brothers have, they’re free to do whatever they want but I’m stuck here to be groomed into the perfect king” he waved his hand dismissively “can’t stand it, it’s just so uninteresting.”  
Antonio remembered that Michael had mentioned Arthur was disinterested in being the future king but he had not expected him to be so open about his dislike of it.  
“Well then what does interest you?” he asked, noticing how Arthur brightened ever so slightly at the question.  
Arthur's body lurched forward a bright grin on his cheeky face “I make no attempt to hide my passion for magic, it’s something that we largely still don’t really understand and yet we can teach it and learn it and live with it, it’s so intriguing,” he said, smiling at Antonio “and what about you Anthony huh? What do you think of magic, can you do any?”   
“No not me” he sighed, “ I was never taught and besides magic doesn’t come so naturally to someone like me, we Dahlian's are known for being ignorant in the magical arts, I can’t do it”   
“I’ve never heard such nonsense, you’re probably just not doing it right” Arthur leaned over the table and rubbed a finger around the rim of the teacup. Antonio suspiciously eyed the cup as Arthur gestured to it, “go on”, with hesitation he gave the tea a sip and grimaced at the recognisable burning sensation that took over his mouth.  
“Well?” Arthur shot an equally hot look Antonio’s way as he swallowed thickly, “you made the tea turn to rum?”   
“Correction, I turned a bit of the tea to rum, it wouldn’t look very good if you were drunk the first day you arrived” Antonio supposed he could understand, it would be bad manners, that being said the tea also tasted really good with the rum so he could not stop himself from drinking a bit more.   
Arthur eyed him wondering when he might stop drinking, when he did not he intervened “You could turn it back if you tried”   
“Is this your long-winded way of telling me that everyone can do magic?” Antonio’s eyes brimmed with a tinge of hope before immediately falling flat as Arthur shook his head.  
“No that’s a bit daft mate, I just think that you can do it is all”   
Arthur was a little confused that Antonio could not do magic, most princes would have had at least some basic magical training forced upon them, but not Antonio. What was even stranger was the light aura of magic Arthur could feel coming from Antonio, he could not pin-point exactly what kind of magic it was or where the source was, but it intrigued him. He wondered if Antonio even knew of this magic, probably not from his adamance that he could not do magic.  
“And I’m telling you I cannot, but I’ll try if just to show you” Antonio pulled one glove off following Arthur’s exact movements for the spell. Arthur almost wanted to laugh, and so he did, releasing a howl of laughter at the aghast look that overcame his guest “of course you’re not going to be able to do it if you don’t understand magic” he grinned at the drop on Antonio’s face.  
“Then why did you encourage me to try? Why did you even change the tea if you knew I wouldn’t be able to turn it back” Antonio became annoyed gripping his knee, this teasing was all too like his brother who took every chance he got to harass Antonio.   
“Because I wanted to mess with you”   
“You should have just done it to your own tea!” he tossed an angry stare at his arrogant host, so he was just making fun of him.  
“You think I didn’t? I love rum,” he threw his cup back drinking the last of the syrupy rum-laced tea, “plus a little rum calms my nerves”   
Antonio's face softened instantly, his eyebrows coming down and his chest relaxing, he laughed, anxiety biting at his throat “I’m sorry for any effect I’m having on you” he joked.  
“You flatter yourself, if it helps your ego though I’ll let you believe what you want” Arthur moved to stand, stretching out long like a cat and releasing a sigh of air “let’s get in its rather cold now.”   
If Antonio had to ascribe Arthur an animal it would probably have been a cat, he had mood swings like a cat after all, one minute he was fine then next he was biting and uninterested in any attention. He did not know if Arthur was always like this or if it was his nerves getting to him, but he cleared away his cup and made his way back into the house on Arthur’s invitation. Strangely when Antonio got up to follow back into the house he could have sworn he saw a curtain closing from the drawing-room window looking out onto where they were sat.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies!:) Had this new story floating in my head for a while so decided to start it, this isn't to say I won't be finishing my other series but I've had to take a mini-break, I wrote another 3 chapters of 'Earnestly Yours' only for my laptop to crash and lose it all. Spent weeks trying to recover them and it's really demotivated me having to rewrite about 8,000 words:') besides, I wanted to write something a bit more high fantasy anyway, and what's better than two guys being dudes eh. Kudo's and comments are appreciated!:)


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